


do not crumble, love is breathing still

by 39_killer_queen



Series: Friends Will Be Friends [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 06:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/39_killer_queen/pseuds/39_killer_queen
Summary: The one where Deaky's arm is broken, he's in a terrible mood and Roger lends him a helping hand.





	do not crumble, love is breathing still

**Author's Note:**

> I believe that there are tropes that should exist in every fandom and your-arm-is-broken-and-you-can't-jerk-off-i'll-help-you-oh-no-we-got-a-bit-carried-away-i-love-you is definitely one of them and since I haven't found that fic yet in the Queen fandom I had to write it. And I chose Joger because I just love that ship.
> 
> Enjoy.

John is in a bad mood. That is a fact clear to anyone who has been around him for more than five minutes in the past month. From the bag boy at the grocery store who got yelled at for packing their meat with their vegetables to John’s bandmates, who John has been snapping at for the most insignificant things, like leaving the toothpaste cap off or breathing too loudly. Roger is still wary of wearing his sparkly pink converse around John after he threw a remote control at him because of the squeaking noises they made against the floor of their flat.

The most unsettling part for Roger, Brian and Freddie is that neither of them is used to it. This isn’t regular John behavior. He’s usually so calm and collected and sure, he will snap at them from time to time or say something harsh that will make them want to curl up in a corner and die but more often that not is Roger who will let his anger get the best of him, Freddie who will create drama out of thin air and Brian who will get angry at the most irrational things, not Deaky.

At least, not before the past month.  

It’s Roger who makes the connection. He pins down the exact moment John’s mood changes and realizes it was not long after he broke his arm.

It had happened in the lamest way possible. They were leaving the studio after a recording session and Deaky tripped on his own feet, stumbling down the stairs along with his bass before Roger or anyone else could do anything. They had rushed down after him to find John hurriedly opening his guitar case, to make sure his bass was still in one piece without noticing that his arm was most definitely _not,_ bent in an awkward angle that had Freddie shrieking and Brian and Roger rushing their friend to the ER. They had put John in a cast for two months which meant their album recording was put on hold for just as long. They tried getting some work done without John but with one half of their rhythm section missing, it was pointless. That had definitely put a damper on _all_ of their moods but not as much as it did on Deaky’s. At least Roger could still take his anger out on his drums and Brian could play his guitar when he felt anxious and needed to get his itching fingers busy and Freddie could still be heard around the house singing, like he always did when he was feeling nervous about something. John, on the other hand couldn’t play his bass and Roger supposes it’s taken a huge toll on the younger man, who is so used to turning to music as a way to relieve stress. Adding to that, Roger has seen John struggle with wearing a cast and doing everyday things, like getting dressed or making his beloved grilled cheese, which is, no doubt, only adding to his frustrations.

Freddie and Brian aren't convinced that’s all there is to it, thinking John’s rising temper can’t be explained by his inability to cook his favorite meal but Roger has spent the entire time he has known Deaky, studying his friend and he knows that whatever it’s bothering him has everything to do with that cast. Which is why Roger can’t wait until they take the bloody thing off so that he can get his Deaky back and he no longer feels like he’s walking on eggshells around him.

It’s exhausting, having to be so careful around John. Roger isn’t used to that, his relationship with Deaky has always been effortless, natural but now he’s always worried that anything he does is going to set him off. Not that second guessing their every move does him or the other two any good. No matter what they do, how badly they try to stay on John’s good side there’s always something that manages to annoy him.

Right now, it’s Brian’s new song.

With their album on hold Brian used his free time to finish writing the piece, which he had called Brighton Rock. He gathered the three remaining band members to play them the music and show them the lyrics. Roger admits there’s room for improvement and they will have to make some adjustments to fit the remaining instruments and Freddie’s vocals but it’s good and the guitar solo it’s a killer one. Overall, he thinks it has potential.

John clearly doesn’t agree.

“I thought we were trying to reinvent ourselves.” He says when Brian puts his guitar down, before Freddie or Roger can get a word out.

Brian tilts his head in confusion. “We are.”

“Not with that song, we’re not.”

Roger and Freddie exchange a worried look. They can see Brian’s fists clench at his sides and Roger knows he’s trying really hard not to get defensive.

“You don’t like it eh Deaky?” Brian asks, calmly.

John doesn’t even grace Brian’s question with an answer, shrugging noncommittally.

Roger sees Brian’s jaw clench and he intervenes before the two of them can jump into a heated argument.

“I think it’s good.” Roger says, offering Brian a placating smile. Freddie nods from where he sits next to him, agreeing with Roger. “The guitar solo it’s bloody brilliant.”

Brian begins to smile but before Roger can congratulate himself for diffusing the tension, John opens his mouth once more. “That’s another thing. Why does every song have to have a guitar solo?”

“Oh dear.” Freddie mutters under his breath, voicing Roger’s own worried thoughts.

“And one that drags on for more than half a song? It’s ridiculous. Not to mention lazy lyric writing.”

Roger’s eyes widen and his head snaps in Brian’s direction, he’s done trying to school his features, choosing to openly glare at John now. Roger turns to Freddie hoping that he might know how to backtrack on this terrible situation but he seems just as lost as Roger.

“I’ve been working on that song _for months_. What’s lazy about that?”

“You asked for our opinion Brian, I’m just being honest.”

“No, you’re being a total prick. Fred and Rog seem to enjoy the song just fine.”

John rolls his eyes with a groan. “Well if Roger and Freddie approve then what does it matter what I have to say, right?”

“Deaky, that’s not-” Roger starts softly, but cuts himself off when John jumps to his feet and keeps talking.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you guys ignore my opinion anyway.”

Brian’s expression loses all of its anger and it’s replaced by confusion at John’s words. “John-”

“Well I don’t give a shit. You three can go to the studio and record Brian’s new song without me for all I care.”

“We would never do that darling.” Freddie jumps in but John waves him off.

“Why not? I know you all blame me for ruining our recording schedule.” The three of them shake their heads at that, not that John acknowledges it in any way. “Well not anymore. Get back to it. Finish the album without me because I’d rather break my other arm than play Brighton freaking Rock.”

And with that he storms off to his room, closing the door with a loud, resounding bang.

Freddie, Brian and Roger blink repeatedly at the shut door, surprised at what they just witnessed. The first two then turn their heads to Roger with a question clearly written on their faces.

“Don’t look at me.” Roger says with a shrug. “I have no idea what just happened.”

“Well, I don’t know either darling but if I had to guess I’d say you had something to do with it.”

Roger gasped, “I’m sorry, why me?”

“It’s usually you, Rog.”

Roger glares at them. “I didn’t do anything. I’ve told you he’s just so angry all the time.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Oh gee, thank you Brian why didn’t I think of that?” Roger says sarcastically. “I tried, you idiot but he won’t talk to me.”

“Make him talk to you then.”

Roger sighs. “This is Deaky we’re talking about. It’s already hard to get words out of him when he’s in a good mood.”

“Yeah, but he has a soft spot for you. He will open up if you try.”

Roger can’t help smiling softly at Freddie’s words, he’s right, John does tend to be more open with Roger than with the remaining two and he always feels a surge of pride when he thinks about that.

“Fine.” Roger says, standing up. “But if he blows up and murders me it’s on you two.”

“We will write a nice eulogy for you dear. Don’t worry.” Freddie says. “Here lies Roger, he was a moderate friend and a mediocre-at-best drummer. May he rest in peace.” Brian snickers and Roger glares at both of them.

They stand up too, no doubt to flee the apartment in case things get ugly between John and Roger, like the bunch of cowards they are. He flips them off on his way to John’s room.

There, he stands in front of the door long enough to hear Brian and Freddie leave the flat and to start second guessing this suicide mission they sent him on, but he’s worried about his friend and he wants to help in any way he can so he forces himself to take a deep breath and knock twice on the door.

Instead of the usual, soft ‘come in’ there’s a groan and a ‘what?’ coming from the other side. Roger can’t help but flinch, sure John can be snarky, it’s part of who he is but he’s never downright rude, especially to Roger. That is, unless he did something to deserve it, but for the life of him, Roger can’t think of anything he might have done to get Deaky in such a mood.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Fine.”

It’s not the enthusiastic yes he was hoping for but at least he’s not being ignored. He opens the door slightly, peeking into the room with a friendly smile.

“Deaky?”

He’s lying on his back, glaring at the ceiling, his broken arm cradled against his body.

He doesn’t look at Roger when he enters and he shifts where he stands, awkwardly waiting for Deaky to acknowledge his presence.

He doesn’t and Roger is forced to clear his throat to get his attention.

John sighs and turns his head towards him.

“What is it, Rog?”

“Uh. I- It’s just, I’m- well the guys and me, we’re worried about you.” Roger stammers out. He hates that he’s nervous. This is Deaky they’re talking about but the way he’s glaring at Roger makes him trip on his words. “You’ve been uh, pretty angry lately and I just wondered- we wondered- did I do something? Or did Freddie and Brian do something? They’re convinced it was me and honestly I can’t blame them for that but I can’t recall doing anything that might make you this angry but whatever it was I’m sorry Deaks I-”

“Rog.” John sighs, struggling to sit up in his bed with only one arm to support himself. His voice is soft and it’s been so long since Deaky spoke to him without anger in his voice that it shuts Roger up right away. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t? Did Brian or Freddie?”

John shakes his head. “None of you did anything.”

“Then what’s going on, John? And don’t say nothing because the way you snapped back there- That’s not nothing.”

John sighs, head hanging down. “It’s just, uh.”

Roger cocks his head to the side, moving to sit in the bed in front of John. He waits for him to continue, but he falls silent instead.

“Yeah?”

“My arm.” John says with a sigh. “I hate that I broke it in the most stupid way possible and ruined our album and now I’m stuck with this bloody cast for weeks and I can’t do _anything_ with it. Not even- you know-”

“Play your bass?”

“Well yeah, but also other _stuff_.” John says, avoiding Roger’s eyes. Roger is intently watching his face and he notices there’s a slight blush on his cheeks, as if John is embarrassed. He doesn’t understand why.

“Other stuff? Like drive or?”

John groans. “No. _Other stuff._ You know stuff to-” he gestures with his hands, willing Roger to understand, clearly uncomfortable with having to spell it out with words “-relieve stress.”

Roger blinks at him. “You lost me Deaks.”

John covers his face with the hand that isn’t currently trapped in a sling and now he’s most definitely blushing and it’s clear why when he groans out, “I can’t wank off okay?!”

Roger’s eyes widen and his jaw drops open. He never expected John to say anything like that. He can feel a flush start to appear in his own cheeks. Sure, he has talked about jerking off with Fred or Brian before, maybe even in front of Deaky but that was him. John it’s not one to openly share this kind of stuff.

He can tell Deaky is mortified and he doesn’t want him to feel more embarrassed than he clearly is but he’s pretty sure his brain just short-circuited and it takes him a moment to recover.

“Oh.” Roger clears his throat when his voice comes out more high pitched than usual. “That must be uh, really frustrating.”

John nods, eyes never meeting Roger’s. “It is and I’m sorry I took it out on you. And Brian and Freddie. Just know that you guys didn’t do anything so you don’t have to apologize.”

“Okay. That’s um, that’s good to know.” Roger says and they both fall silent. It’s an awkward silence, something neither of them are used to when it comes to each other.

John is absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on his sheets while Roger anxiously wrings his fingers together. It’s Roger who can’t take the silence much longer, but instead of changing the subject and diffusing the tension, he asks John, “So it’s been what, a month? Since you- you know?”

Roger cringes inwardly and he’s sure John isn’t going to answer and just kick him out of his room, refusing to discuss this with Roger, but to his surprise he nods. “Yeah.”

“Wow that’s- yeah I get why you’re frustrated.”

John snorts, the tension slowly leaving the room. “Yeah. I’m just on edge all the time. And I’ve tried to but my left hand is not- There’s no pace and I just can’t get there and it’s still another three weeks at least before the doctor even considers removing the cast and I think I might go crazy.”

Roger grimaces in sympathy. He’s never gone that long without relieving himself since he discovered what his dick was for. And he knows how frustrating it can be when something stops or interrupts his alone time. And for over a month? Roger would be going crazy too if he was John.

In fact, Roger thinks he might be going crazy after all because the next words that leave his mouth surprise him just as much as they surprise John.

“Maybe I can help.”

John’s head snaps up and his expression is one of pure shock. Roger’s words register in his own brain and his expression probably matches John’s before turning into one of panic, especially when John doesn’t say anything and just stares at Roger, who starts rambling nervously.

“I mean it’s no big deal right? Just a friend helping out another friend? Nothing weird. I just thought you would appreciate the uh- hand. I hate seeing you so angry and I’d love to help, I mean I wouldn’t _love_ it but I wouldn’t hate it. I think. But it’s cool if you don’t want to, mate I’m just saying I could if you’d like, but if you don’t then we can forget I ever said anything and I’ll just go hide in a cupboard or something, until I suffocate or die of embarrassment you know whatever comes first and-”

“Okay.”

Roger stops in his tracks, narrowing his eyes at John. “Okay I should go die?”

John chuckles, but the sounds comes out a bit strained. “Okay, I’ll accept the uh, offer.” Now it’s Roger’s turn to be surprised and John’s turn to be worried when Roger doesn’t respond right away. “Unless you weren’t serious in which case let’s forget I said anything.”

“Yes. I mean no. Uh. I was serious, the offer still stands.”

John nods, biting nervously on his lip. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“So, did you mean like now?”

Roger shrugs, faking nonchalance. “There’s no time like today, right? And Brian and Freddie aren’t home so.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They both sit there, waiting for the other to do something. Being the one who suggested the idea, Roger supposes he should be the one to make the first move so he stands up and moves to lock John’s door. He surreptitiously pinches himself, just to make sure that he's not dreaming and he’s actually about to give John a handjob.

When he turns around he finds John squirming in his bed, clearly nervous. With John being the youngest, Roger (and Brian and Freddie too) tended to be a bit protective over him and right now Roger feels the urge to reassure him and make him feel comfortable, despite the weirdness of the situacion.

“Why don’t you lie down, eh Deaks? Get comfortable.”

John gulps but nods, scooting up the bed until his back is pressed against the pillows. He’s breathing heavily already and his cheeks are flushed, Roger thinks he looks absolutely delectable. He feels heat pooling in his lower stomach but ignores it. This isn’t about him, he isn’t expecting to get anything from this- other than new material for his spank bank. This is about John and Roger needs to focus on that.

“Do you need me to turn around or something while you get started or?”

“You’re going to see and touch my dick Rog, you don’t have to turn around.” John says with a snort.  “Besides I think just the thought of getting off seems to have worked.” He adds, not looking at Roger but down at his lap.

Roger’s eyes follow his and he sees John unbuttoning his trousers with his good hand. Roger gulps loudly when he notices the bulge in them, straining against the seam. He wills himself not to get hard, but the sight in front of him- a flushed Deaky undressing himself, the outline of his hard dick more than noticeable in his pants- it’s enough to make Roger feel lightheaded from all of his blood heading south. He’s glad that his own pants are baggy enough so that John can’t see where all that blood has gone.

Roger sees John struggling to pull down the zipper with only one hand. He should be ashamed of himself, he’s supposed to be helping John, not drooling over him. He moves to sit next to John on the bed and hesitantly reaches for his pants, his hands accidentally brushing the tent in them, making John shudder and bite his lip to try and stifle a moan.

He knows John must be sensitive, after an entire month of nothing, but he’s still surprised by his reaction to the lightest of touches. It makes Roger wonder how he will react once he gets his hands on him. The thought makes Roger smirk and he makes quick work of the zipper, feeling more confident about what he’s doing by the minute.

“Eager, eh Deaks?” Roger teases and John blushes, even harder than before. Roger can’t help but wonder just how deep that blush goes. If he took Deaky’s shirt off, would his chest be flushed as well? He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind from the enticing image.

“Shut up.” John says, eyelashes fluttering closed when Roger starts dragging his trousers down. They’re tight, too tight. On any other occasion Roger would say he loves those pants- they make Deaky’s arse look absolutely delicious- but right now he wishes he was wearing something that was easier to take off.

“No need to be embarrassed Deaky, drummers are supposed to have deft fingers.” Roger winks at John. Before lowering his gaze to glare at John’s crotch, where his trousers are stuck.

“You talk big game for someone who hasn’t managed to take off my pants.”

Roger gasped, feigning hurt. “Oi, it’s your fault for wearing pants that are so bloody tight.” He says and John takes pity on him, lifting his hips so that he can finally pull them off. “Aha! Like I said, deft fingers.”

John snorts, teasingly. “Sure, Rog.”

“Oh yeah?” Roger taunts, “I’ll show you just how skilled I am.”

And with that, he squeezes John’s dick through his boxers without any warning. John lets out a needy whimper and balls up the sheets in his fists.

Roger bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to stop the moan that threatens to escape at the sight in front of him and the delicious sounds that John is making.

Hoping to draw more of those little sounds from him, he moves his hand up and down the outline of his dick, torturously slow. John starts moving his hips, seeking Roger’s hand and that delicious friction, trying to set his own rhythm, all the while little whimpers and moans are leaving his mouth. Roger can’t stop staring at him, mesmerized and impossibly turned on. He never thought he would get to see John like this, touch him like this. Sure, he imagined what it would be like- in those dark nights when he would let himself wonder about it while his hand was wrapped around his own dick- but he never entertained the idea that it would actually happen and he would get to see it up close.

“Rog-” John says with a choked gasp and Roger realizes that he stopped moving his hand, too busy staring unabashadley at him. “Please, Rog.”

Roger smirks moving his fingers lightly over the tent in John’s boxers. “What do you want, John?”

“For you to stop teasing me.” John says, breathing heavily. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“Don’t worry, doll. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Roger says with a wink and a cheeky grin. He moves his hand up and under John’s shirt, brushing his fingers against the skin there before sneaking them under the waistband of his boxers, teasing him. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Rog.” John whimpers, squirming on the bed. Roger’s hand is avoiding the spot where John wants it the most and playing with the line of hair that disappears into John’s boxers instead.

Taking pity on him, Roger settles more comfortably on the bed before using both of his hands to drag Deaky’s boxers down. His dick springs up, rock hard, glistening with precome, making Roger’s mouth water. He bites down on his tongue, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his stomach when he entertains the thought of getting not only his hand but his mouth on him as well. He removes the piece of clothing entirely, leaving John completely naked from the waist down. John’s good hand unconsciously moves down to try and cover himself but Roger stops him, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, don’t be shy.” Roger says, gently running his thumb over John's knuckles. He doesn’t understand why John would feel the need to hide when he’s nothing less than beautiful. Roger wishes he could tell him that but it would mean giving away too much of how he feels about John. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

John moans loudly, Roger’s hand is nowhere near his dick and he grins when he realizes he must be reacting to what Roger called him. “You like that, Deaks? Me calling you sweetheart?”

“No.” John huffs, voice strained and clearly affected. Roger’s grin grows and John drags his hand away from his grip, covering his face- and his blush- with his arm. “I would like it more if you got your hand on my dick already-ah!”

His words are cut off by a moan when Roger does exactly what he asked and wraps his fingers around his dick.

“Like that, _sweetheart_?”

John whines, shutting his eyes and struggling to keep his hips still and against the mattress. “Roger, move your bloody hand, _please_."

“Well when you beg so pretty.” Roger says, voice low and predatory. He starts moving his hand up and down the length of John’s dick and uses the other one to adjust his own dick in his trousers, where it’s begging for attention.

John’s reaction is instant, his mouth parts in a silent moan and his back arches, exposing the skin of his neck. Roger wishes he could mark him up there with bites and kisses, before making his way down with his mouth.

Instead, he tightens his grip on John, driving him completely crazy. The angle is a bit different and it throws Roger off slightly but in the end it isn’t that much different from jerking himself off. He tries out everything that he likes, running his thumb over the slit, collecting the precome that gathers there and using it to smooth the slide of his hand, quickening his movements before slowing down to a torturously slow pace again. John seems to like it as well, if the way he turns into a writhing, moaning mess is any indication.

At some point, John lowers the arm that he’d thrown over his face, gripping the pillow under his head instead, needing something to hold on to. It lets Roger see John’s expression clearly and it’s almost enough to make him come untouched in his pants. Deaky’s expression is one of pure ecstasy, his skin is glistening with sweat, blush high on his cheeks and his lips are bitten red and parted open in a moan.

It’s single-handedly the hottest thing Roger has ever seen.

He doesn’t notice that he’s leaning down, eyes trained on John’s mouth until he feels his breath on his face when he gasps out.

“Roger I need- ah fuck.”

“Yeah? What do you need Deaky?”

“More. Just- more please.” He says, writhing on the bed. Roger jumps when he feels John’s hand close around his thigh, dangerously close to his dick, urging him on. “Fuck, I’m close.”

Roger can tell he is, his toes are curled and he’s squeezing Roger’s leg with a tight grip, while letting out the neediest noises. Roger selfishly doesn’t want John to come, doesn’t want this to be over so soon which is why he withdraws his hand just as John nears the edge.

John lets out a pained groan, blinking his eyes open to glare at Roger. “Why did you do that?”

Roger has no good answer. Not that it matters since his mind is elsewhere right now. John is biting on his bottom lip, hard and Roger’s eyes are fixed on them. He finds himself licking his own lips, wondering how they would feel pressed together. This isn’t the first time he finds himself wanting to kiss John, but it’s the first time he voices those thoughts out loud.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Wha-what?” John asks, confused and still a little light-headed from his near orgasm but not enough to miss Roger’s admission.

“Shit. Fuck. Forget it, I’m an idiot.” Roger mutters, panic starting to bubble up inside him. He pulls back from where he was almost hovering over John, planning to leave the room, then their flat and maybe even the country but before he can, John grabs his wrist and stops him.

Roger expects John to yell at him and kick him out, what he doesn’t expect is to see John staring back at him with both fondness and want, all at once and it makes Roger’s words die in his throat.

“You _are_ an idiot yeah, but for some reason,” John says, letting go of Roger’s wrist to move his fingers up and down his arm instead, “I want to kiss you too.”

Roger exhales a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “You- what?”

“Kiss me Roger.” John says. “Please.”

Roger nods, not quite believing what’s happening but not one to turn down an opportunity like this.

He leans down, eyes searching John’s face for any sign that he should stop and when he doesn’t find any- instead, John looks at him with hooded, want-filled eyes- he presses his lips against John’s, like he wished he could do several times before.

It’s a chaste kiss, and it pales in comparison to what Roger had been doing just a few minutes ago -jerking John off- but it drives him just as crazy with want. The heat that had pooled in his stomach turns into a burning flame and Roger moans against John’s mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into Roger’s mouth, grabbing his face with his good hand to pull him closer.

Roger is now hovering over John, using both of his arms to support himself, careful not to hurt his broken arm. His back is bent in an awkward angle too, but none of that is enough to drag him away.

Instead he moves even closer, guided down by John’s hand that has found its way into Roger’s hair. He pulls on the blonde strands, making Roger whine into the kiss.

John pulls back slightly and chuckles, a low throaty sound that sends a shiver down Roger’s spine. “You like that, Rog?” He asks teasingly.

“No.” Roger says, but his voice comes out breathless and wrecked, giving him away.

John smirks, and pulls on Roger’s hair again. This time, a wanton moan escapes his mouth and Roger can feel the flush on his cheeks spreading down the column of his neck, there for John to see. “Are you sure?”

“ _John_.” Roger whines, Deaky’s fingers are now playing with his hair, brushing back the strands and scratching Roger’s scalp, feeding the liquid fire in Roger’s gut.

“No need to be embarrassed Rog,” John says and the way he’s looking at Roger, with hooded eyes and fluttering eyelashes, is enough to make him feel like he’s melting. “Bass players have deft fingers too.”

With that, his fingers move to downwards, to Roger’s neck and John pulls him in for another kiss.  Roger wastes no time in deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue against John’s, muffling all the sounds John’s dragging from him against his lips.

He feels him shift under him and moves back just enough to glance down and see that he’s lifting his hips, seeking friction. Roger remembers that he’s supposed to be focusing on John, not himself, helping his friend get off for the first time in a month and without a warning, he wraps his hand around John’s dick again.

“Fuck! Roger.” John gasps, hips bucking up. Roger pushes him down with his free hand, holding him there and speeding up the movements with his other hand, thumbing at John’s slit, drawing moan after moan from him and making him squirm.

He won’t stop moving and as much as Roger likes the way John looks when he’s desperate, he would rather be able to touch him without his hand slipping off. “Stop moving, Deaks.”

“I can’t help it Rog. Fuck, it feels so good.”

The words go straight to Roger’s dick, making his breath hitch and his other hand move down to adjust himself.

John’s eyes follow the movement, and he notices the bulge in Roger’s trousers. The blissed-out expression on his face is replaced by a smirk. “And you called _me_ eager.”

“Can you blame me?” Roger says. “My ultimate wet dream is unfolding right in front of me.” His eyes travel up and down John’s figure and he bites his bottom lip, letting all of his desire show on his face.

“Your ultimate wet dream?” John asks with a playful grin.

Roger nods. “I can tell you all about that later if you want, but right now I need you to stay still, Deaky. You’re making this very hard on me- pun absolutely intended.”

John chuckles but the laughter dies in his throat when Roger moves to get his leg in the space between John’s knees, straddling his thigh and pinning him down.

Now that John isn’t moving is easier for Roger to touch him. He knows John is close. He can tell by the chant of breathy ‘uh, uh, uh’s against Roger’s lips and the way his eyes are nearly rolling to the back of his head. This time he won’t stop, he wants to see John coming undone underneath him, a fucked out expression on his face and Roger’s name on his lips. His dick twitches at the thought and while still trying to get John off, Roger starts to subtly rub his erection against John’s thigh, trying to relieve some of the tension in his trousers. He thinks he could get off just from that and the way John looks right now, completely deb debauched with his flushed cheeks, his clouded eyes and his tousled hair.

“Faster Rog, please.”

Roger does as he’s told, speeding up the pace. The movements feel a bit too rough and without a second thought, Roger lets go and licks the palm of his hand. His eyes never leave John’s and he sees the way they darken at that, the green of his pupils disappearing entirely.

He wraps his hand around John again and it’s so much better like this, with his spit smoothing the slide of his hand against his friend’s dick. John seems to agree, his moans growing louder.

“Oh god, Roger you feel so good.”

“And you look so good, Deaky.” Roger gasps out, completely enthralled by John. It’s the reason why he can see the blush on his cheeks deepen, something Roger didn’t think was possible. Leave it to Deaky to blush over a compliment when he’s being jacked off by his friend. “You do. You look absolutely delicious, John. I can’t wait to see how you look when you come.”

“ _Roger_.”

“Come on sweetheart. Let me see you.” Roger whispers right on John’s ear, he shudders, letting out a high-pitched whine.

“Rog, I’m- uh. I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you John.” Roger says, biting on his earlobe. “Come on, let go. Come for me sweetheart.”

That’s all it takes, John’s back arches and he comes on Roger’s hand with a cry that sounds a lot like Roger’s name.

It’s even hotter than Roger could possibly have imagined and his hips stutter to a stop against John’s thigh, to keep himself from coming at the sight.

He slows down his hand’s movements but he doesn’t stop, helping John ride out his orgasm, admiring the blissed-out expression on his face. He finally lets go when John whines, oversensitive, and pushes Roger’s hand away. With John still out of it, Roger wipes his hand down on the sheets knowing he probably won’t appreciate it. He will offer to change them later, but right now he can’t be bothered to move from John’s side. Instead, he tucks his face against John’s neck, feeling his rapid pulse as it starts to slow down. He places a soft kiss there and John sighs happily.

“How are you feeling Deaky?”

“Like I could listen to Brian rant about space dust for hours without wanting to smack him.”

“That good huh?” Roger asks, smugly. “I’m flattered you feel that way.”

“Don’t be. After a month of nothing, even a mediocre hand job would have blown my mind.” John says, smirking at Roger and when he lets out a choked gasp, outraged, he bursts into laughter.

“You sod.” Roger says, but he’s laughing too, enjoying the way John is grinning at him, blissfully happy. There’s no tension, no awkwardness and Roger forgets for a moment that he’s hard in his trousers.

At least until John shifts and his thigh rubs against Roger’s erection, making his breath catch in his throat. John freezes and Roger freaks out. “Shit, sorry. You don’t have to- I’ll just take care of that later-”

John rolls his eyes, smirking at him. “Please Rog, you think I didn’t notice you were hard? Or that you were grinding against my thigh?” Roger’s eyes widen, blush deepening. “You can do that.. if you want. I would offer to help you out but-” he lifts his broken arm in a shrug. “That’s why we’re in this situation.”

Roger nods eagerly and John grins, dragging him down for a kiss. The slide of their tongues and the way John bites and sucks on Roger’s bottom lip are enough to get him fully hard again and it’s not long before he’s grinding against John’s thigh, gasping at the delicious friction.

John’s mouth moves to Roger’s neck, biting lightly  on the skin there, before soothing the sting with his tongue. Roger should be worried about John leaving a mark and having to explain to Brian and Freddie where and how he got it but right now he can only focus on how good it feels. Especially when John’s good hand finds its way to Roger’s hair, fingers tangling on the strands, pulling on them and exposing more of Roger’s skin when he throws his head back, moaning and speeding up his movements against John’s thigh.

“Look at you, Rog. You’re so wrecked already and I didn’t even touch your cock.” John whispers in Roger’s ear. His voice is low, deep and nothing like John’s usual voice. Roger feels his dick twitch in the confines of his trousers. “I can only imagine what you would look like if I got my hands on you. Or my mouth.” Roger whimpers and his hips stutter, losing their rhythm for a moment. “Would you like that, Rog? Would you let me suck you off? I would make you feel so good, I’d have you screaming my name in no time.” He bites down on Roger’s collarbone, making him gasp.

“John! Oh my god.”

“Yeah just like that. You could pull my hair too. I might not love it as much as you do.” He says, pulling on Roger’s hair and making fireworks explode behind his eyelids. “But you’ll need something to hold on to as you fuck my mouth.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Roger whines. He’s so close already, just from Deaky’s words and his hand on his hair and his thigh against Roger’s dick. The heat in his stomach is scorching and Roger knows he will come in any moment.

John chuckles, “We could do that too. You could fuck me. I’ve heard the girls you bring home at night, the way they scream your name as you fuck into them. I bet you could make me scream like that.” He says, and starts moving his thigh, matching Roger’s thrusts. “Or I could fuck you.”

Roger gives a full body shudder at that. It isn’t by far the first time he thinks about John fucking him but it being John the one who suggests it has Roger losing it.

“Yeah, I think you would like that. My fingers inside of you, stretching you wide open so you can take my cock. Would you want that?”

Roger nods, eagerly. John grins. “Of course you would. I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve thought about it either.” John’s right and Roger shakes his head. He’s too far gone to care if John knows, he just needs him to keep talking, feeding the fire in his core. “Yeah? Do you think about me fucking you when you wank off? Maybe use your fingers, pretend that it’s me. I bet you look so good with something up your arse.”

“Jesus fuck. _John_.”

“I bet you would look even better split open on my dick. And the noises you’d make, god Roger I could come just from that. You have no idea how good you sound.”

“John I’m- I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay love. We can save all of that for next time.” John says and Roger’s brain almost short-circuits at the suggestion that this might happen again, but John doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t give Roger a chance to clear his head long enough to wonder what that means. “God, the things I will do to you the moment my arm is off this fucking sling, I’m going to _ruin you_ , Rog.”

A noise that sounds a lot like a sob escapes from Roger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, he’s so close he can almost feel his orgasm ripping through him. “Please, Deaky I-”

“I’ve got you Rog, come on.”

“Fuck, John please.”

Roger doesn’t know what he’s asking for but John seems to understand him anyway. He grabs a handful of Roger’s hair and pulls at the same time that he bites down on Roger’s neck and just like that Roger is coming into his pants like a horny teenager. His hips stutter to a stop and his toes curl as wave after wave of pleasure rip through him, leaving him completely spent and limp against John’s side.

When he comes down from his high, breathing slowing down and legs no longer shaking, he feels John’s hand absentmindedly playing with his hair. Roger can see that he’s smiling softly at the ceiling while humming under his breath what appears to be a familiar melody.

Roger frowns when he recognizes it. “Is that Brighton Rock?”

John stops mid-hum and purses his lips. “No.”

“Bloody hell, it is!” Roger says, lifting himself on his elbow to stare down at John. “I thought you said you hated the song. In fact you told Brian that you would rather break your other arm than play it.”

John scrunches up his nose. “Did I really say that?” Roger nods and John groans, throwing his arm over his head. “I can’t believe I said that. It’s a terrible thing to say.”

“It’s not the worst you’ve said in the last month.” Roger says and John groans again. “Sorry. Don’t worry though, they’ll understand.”

“Understand what? They can’t know about this.” John says and Roger feels his stomach drop, his mind racing. If John doesn’t want them to know then he probably regrets it and everything he said was just in the heat of the moment and what happened probably ruined their friendship and- “If they did I would never hear the end of it!” John says with a snort.

Roger recovers quickly from his almost freak out and lets out a shaky laugh. “But how are they going to thank me for getting you in a good mood again?”

“You’ll have to settle only for my gratitude.” John says, shrugging.

Roger lights up, smirking at John. “So you _are_ thanking me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” John shakes his head. “You just said so.” Roger insists and John starts laughing. It’s Roger favorite John-laugh, the one where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his adorable tooth gap is showing and where he’s just so carelessly happy that he can’t bring himself to cover it with his hand. It’s the kind of smile that makes Roger want to kiss him again.

“You can, you know.” John says, and Roger tilts his head to the side, confused. “Kiss me. If you want.”

Roger gulps, realizing he spoke his thoughts out loud before registering that John just gave him permission to kiss him. “Yeah?” He asks, just to make sure and to get rid of the uncertainty that is gnawing at the back of his brain.

John rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly at Roger. “Rog I’m half naked in bed with you, you just wanked me off and I talked you through your own orgasm, yes, you can kiss me.”

And there’s that grin again and Roger can’t help but feel lucky to be able to see it up close and even more so to be able to kiss it off John’s face. He leans down and John sighs against Roger’s lips. They kiss chastely, softly and with no other intent than to feel each other, breaking apart when it’s time to catch their breath and staring into each other’s eyes with a dazed expression.

It’s Roger who finally breaks the silence. “You said-” He stops and clears his throat when his voice comes out strained, he can’t remember the last time a kiss affected him that much. “You talked about a next time. Before. When we were uh- you know.” He stammers out and watches as John’s eyes widen and he blushes.

“I was hoping you didn’t catch that.”

“Oh.” Roger says, and he tries to keep the disappointment from his face. “We can pretend it didn’t happen if you want to. I just thought- never mind.”

“Wait no Rog. That’s not-” John groans, grabbing Roger’s wrist just in case he was planning to take off. “I meant what I said, every word, but I know in the heat of the moment people can get carried away and I don’t want you to feel like I expect anything from you. I don’t want to force you into anything.”

It’s Roger’s turn to roll his eyes at the man in front of him. “Force me? Did you decide to completely ignore the part where you made me come just by talking about us fucking?” He says with a snort, making John giggle adorably. “There’s nothing I want more than for this to happen again, Deaks, trust me. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

“We are, I want this too.”

Roger grins, “Great.”

“Yeah, great.”

Then Roger’s grin turn into a smirk. “Besides you did say you were going to have this cast for at least another three weeks, which means you’ll need me to lend you a hand again to keep you in a good mood. You know, for the sake of the band.”

John snorts, his face threatening to break into a grin. “For the band, huh?” Roger nods, feigning innocence. “And I suppose, for the sake of the band, I will have to return the favor.”

Roger shrugs. “Well, my hand might grow tired and I can’t drum with just one hand you know, so yeah, you might need to help me out.”

John sighs. “Then I suppose I’ll have to take one for the team.”

“Oi! Don’t sound so excited!” Roger says, feigning offense, before both he and Deaky dissolve into soft laughter. “Hey John?”

“Hm?”

“That’s not the only thing that I want.” Roger says and he brings one of his hands up, to tuck a strand of John’s hair behind his ear before cupping John’s cheek. “Sex, I mean.”

John’s expression softens and he leans into Roger’s touch. “Me neither.”

“Good.”

“Good.” John agrees, closing the distance between them to press a chaste kiss on Roger’s lips, making his stomach flutter. Out of all the things they did today, this is what makes Roger feel the most like he’s floating on cloud nine and he’s sure that all of that is written on his face when he pulls away. John’s face on the other hand is tinged with discomfort and he notices the way he’s shifting his broken arm repeatedly.

“Are you hurting?” Roger asks, then worriedly he adds. “Did _I_ hurt you?”

John shakes his head, smiling reassuringly at Roger. “You didn’t, it’s just time for my meds that’s all.”

“I’ll get them for you.” Roger says and stands up, grimacing when he feels the drying come in his boxers. “Fuck, that’s gross.”

John chuckles, scooting up into a sitting position, lowering his long, silk shirt to cover himself. In the process his hand lands on a wet spot and a matching grimace appears on his face. “Did you wipe your come-stained hand on my bed?”

Roger’s eyes widen and he scratches the back of his neck with his hand. “Uh. No?”

“Rog.” John says sternly and Roger sighs.

“I might have, but only because I thought you wouldn’t appreciate it if I touched your face with it.” Roger shrugs, but John’s expression remains the same. “I’ll get your pills _and_ change the sheets.” He says and starts to move, only to frown again. “And my underwear, bloody hell.”

John snorts and Roger waddles uncomfortably towards the door. The first thing he does is change into clean underwear and a pair of sweatpants before grabbing John’s pills from the bathroom. He’s looking for clean sheets when the door to their flat opens and Brian and Freddie walk in.

Brian raises an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?”

Roger stares at him like a deer caught in the headlights, with no idea how to explain why he’s looking for clean sheets in the middle of the day.

Freddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. “Please tell me you didn’t murder Deaky and now we have to help you hide the body. He’s been insufferable but he’s our friend and I don’t want him to die.”

“Uh, no. Deaky’s fine. More than fine actually. Back to his usual self.”

Freddie smiles, clapping his hands excitedly. “That’s wonderful darling! How did you do it?”

“Uh.”

Roger falls silent while his two friends stare at him expectantly as he opens and closes his mouth like a gaping fish, not knowing what to say. He doesn’t get the chance to say anything though because John comes into the hallway at that moment- in boxers and an old t-shirt and Roger sends a quick thank you to whatever higher power that made John put on clothes before walking out of his room- and completely missed the fact that Roger and him aren’t alone anymore and starts talking.

“What’s taking you so long Rog? I need you to change the sheets so we can lie down and make out for a while before Freddie and Brian-” He stops, finally registering the other two are there, eyes widening comically. “-come back.”

Immediately, John’s face turns a deep shade of red. It’s a lot like his blush from earlier, made more noticeable by the contrast with his white shirt. Roger’s dick twitches in his pants at the familiar sight and he uses the sheets he gathered to cover his crotch just in case. No need to make this situation more awkward than it already is.

Brian is staring alternately between John and Roger, clearly confused. That is until the moment he finally puts two and two together and his jaw drops open in shock. Freddie, on the other hand, is smirking deviously at both of them, not an ounce of surprise in his face.

“Well, I suppose that answers my question. Nothing puts you in a better mood than some snogging and by the looks of it you two did more than that. That’s a lovely hickey you have there, Rog.” Freddie says and winks first at Roger and then at John. “Nicely done Deaky.”

John’s blush turns an even deeper shade of red and Roger’s hand moves to his neck to cover the mark, but there’s no use in doing that now.

Freddie lets out a bark of laughter. He seems pleased with this turn of events and not at all surprised, unlike Brian who hasn’t managed to close his gaping mouth or get any words out.

Freddie grabs his arm.

“Come on Bri, lets give these two a bit more of privacy.” Freddie says, blowing a kiss at John and then at Roger. “Have fun, darlings. Don’t do anything I wouldn't do.” He adds and winks for good measure, dragging Brian along with him, who’s still silent and possibly trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

After Brian and Freddie leave, Roger sighs.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

John groans and bangs his head against the doorframe. “You’re joking? That was more painful than breaking my damn arm.” He says. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Roger gasps. “You were the one asking for a make out session at the top of your lungs!”

“Because I thought we were alone!”

“Well, we’re alone now.” Roger shrugs and moves to stand in front of John, wrapping his arms around his waist, leaning forward, trying to bring their mouths together but John stops him.

“They could walk back in.”

“They won’t.”

“But what if they do?”

“I don’t care.”

“I do!”

“ _John_.”

“ _Rog_.”

“Fine.” Roger sighs. “Let’s go inside your room then.”

John rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yes, but you like me like that.”

“Yeah.” John says softly. His good hand tucks a strand of Roger’s hair behind his ear. “I do.”

Roger beams at him. “And _I_ like _you_.”

John giggles, blushing slightly. “Good.” He says, trying to hide his grin. “You’re still changing the sheets, though.” He adds, poking Roger’s chest.

“Ugh. Fine.” Roger says, pouting. He reluctantly lets go of John’s hips and watches as he starts walking backwards, dragging Roger along by his shirt. “But only because then we can dirty them up again.” He adds, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously.

John bursts into a fit of giggles. His eyes are half-closed and they’re crinkling at the corners and there’s that toothy grin again, the one that makes Roger feel like his heart is melting. He dives in before he can make a conscious attempt to move and captures John’s lips in a kiss mid-laugh.

Now that he’s allowed to do that, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself from kissing him literally all the time but if the way John cups his cheek and pulls him closer is any indication, Roger doesn’t think neither of them mind that much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you thought.


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